what love makes us do
by Ushinatta Neko
Summary: Love is not sweet. Not at all. Rated T for Twisted Themes. [series of LenKu one-shots and drabbles] [Dedicated to Awesome D.T.]
1. Chapter 1 - cage

**So this is for ****awesomedt, who wanted a Yandere!Len and an Innocent!Miku oneshot.**

**Okay so I wrote this while being depressed while being sick. So yeah. Also, I dunno if you guys can actually tell that Miku's innocent. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

* * *

The pain burns him.

It burns him so much that Len's sure that he'll receive scars and wounds and stabs and blisters all over his body and he screams.

HE DOESN'T LIKE IT DOESN'T LIKE IT DOESN'T LIKE IT

The silence is so deafening.

The silence breaks his eardrums his head his body his limbs his eyes his stomach his heart him.

Go away GO AWAY GO AWAY GOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAY WHY WON'T IT _GO AWAY!?_

The monochrome colors burn into his eyes.

It's painful, seeing blacks and whites flash before his eyes and Len doesn't like it.

STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP IT HURTS STOP

He hyperventilates, hair a mess and blonde strands ripped out in his sweaty palms, gasping and choking for air.

AIR THAT IS SO PRECIOUS BUT WHY WHY WHY WHY ISN'T IT HERE WHY WHERE IS IT!?

He grapples around her, fisting around in the empty space. It might be a vacuum, it might be that he's in space...but there's just no air. No air for him to breath in, no air for him to live in.

Tears stream down his face. It's suffocating.

* * *

Everyday is just as usual.

He stares at the outside world from the metal cage that blocks him from even setting foot in the world.

Len stares without feeling.

He just doesn't care anymore.

His fingers pick away absentmindedly at the scabs that cover his wrists.

They remain there forever, etched in his heart, not just his body.

Warm liquid runs down his arm and Len realizes belatedly that the blood is coming from the open wounds.

"This won't do."

He picks up a small pocketknife, flicks the blade out, and cuts.

It doesn't offer him any more relief.

It stopped after about the fiftieth time.

Len throws the blade away as far as possible.

He flinches when it hits walls with a loud ring that only metal could produce and bounces onto the ground.

The boy curls up into a ball and sleeps, ignoring the red liquid that stains his hair.

It's never going to stay anyway.

He's always going to be trapped in this metal cage of his.

* * *

Whispers hurt his eardrums.

Ear cells will never regenerate after dying, so Len's pretty sure he only has about one hundred or so left.

He doesn't care, either way. All the better for him to go deaf.

He won't have to hear anything anymore.

He _doesn't _want to hear anything anymore.

It hurts too much for him too care.

He should just die.

But he won't die. He can't die. He wouldn't die!

No matter how many time, how deep he cuts, _she _always comes and rescues him!

He hates her.

* * *

She's here again.

A hand reaches out to him and Len takes it.

Unwillingly.

Willingly?

He doesn't know anymore.

* * *

She smiles like the flowers.

(Her hair certainly doesn't belong to any of the colours of the flowers though. It's aqua.)

Even though Len's never seen flowers before.

His habitat is too dark and dingy for even the smallest flower to bloom.

But...

She bloomed anyway.

As a pure flower, furthermore.

It was strange.

He's afraid to pluck this first flower that grows in here.

He's afraid to hurt this first flower that grows in here.

He's afraid to touch this first flower that grows in here.

_He's afraid to _nurture _this first flower that grows in here._

* * *

Is it jealousy?

Is it love?

Is it infatuation?

Is it a crush?

Is it friendship?

Or is it possessiveness?

He stares out of his metal cage at the two star-crossed lovers.

They look so much like Romeo and Juliet.

Then he should be Shylock.

Romeo died before Juliet anyway.

* * *

The metal blade's gripped so tightly that his blood mixes with his.

Len doesn't know if it's tears or blood or rain that streams down his face.

Anyway, it's wet.

His metal cage is tainted.

It's been fitted with a padlock now.

A padlock with a flower imprinted.

* * *

He continues staring out of his metal cage. The cage is now overgrown with plants and flowers of all types, curling against each other and fighting to bloom.

Len slashes at them with the metal blade. They die and wilt away.

He slashes at the padlock. It rings with a sound only metal could produce.

The flower stays imprinted on the padlock. Len frowns and slashes again and again.

He hates her.

He hates her.

He loves her.

Len doesn't know anymore.

Love and hate are both sides of the same coin anyway.

So it's the same.

Len continues swiping his blade at the padlock.

This shows how much he loves her.

* * *

He loves her so much that he hates her.

He hates her so much that he loves her.

Len doesn't understand, but he understands at the same time.

It's amazing what hate can do to him.

It's amazing what love can do to him.

Nothing burns him now.

Nothing breaks him now.

Nothing pains him now.

Nothing makes him hyperventilate now.

Nothing is needed now.

Nothing suffocates him now.

After all, his metal cage is perfect now.

The flower stays imprinted on the padlock.

* * *

**It was fun writing about Len. I mean, I've never put him as one of my POV characters before (sorry dude) sooooo yeah. **

**I hope you'll like this one-shot, ****awesomedt! =w=**

**(It might have been a bit confusing so hahaha) **


	2. Chapter 2 - hallucinations

**Title: hallucinations**

**Rating: K+**

**Word count: 557**

**Summary: What are they talking about — him being murdered? He's still alive, isn't he? She had made sure of that (and now she was upset because of that stupid, stupid, question.)**

_A/N: Ehhh, I decided to expand this into a drabble series. Oh, and this is the rewritten ver. of **hallucinations**, because after reading Rolling-chan's review, I realised that I left a lot of things out; remembering what you're going to write is hard after a long, long, math worksheet. _

* * *

She stares after him, wanting, but not having. It pains her to see him flocked by girls, and even more when he seems to be enjoying the attention, because he's supposed to be hers.

Hers and not anyone else.

He needs only her attention, so why is he seeking others? He needs only her touch, so why is he letting other girls flirt and touch his arm, his neck, his face, his beautiful, beautiful blonde hair? He needs only her lips, so why is he letting other girls kiss him?

She doesn't understand, really.

So she approaches him and asks. It's quite obvious that she will do that, because what does one do when in doubt? Ask, of course. So she asks with a forced smile on her face, when all she wants to do is slap him and kiss him and hug him and punch him all at the same time.

And he says that _because he's not really there, even though he's hers. _

She thinks she understands, but then she doesn't, too, and she finds herself chasing after an unraveling ball of strings that keeps rolling and rolling away. She's still thinking when the kind woman in a white dress asks for her and she's still thinking when she sits in front of a man who has a balding head and wiry glasses, fingers tapered together and a gold wedding band around his fourth finger.

How nice, she thinks mutely, that he's married. And yet here she is, pining for _him_. It's unfair, how their situations are completely reversed, and she thinks that she might have to do something about it, you know, because justice is fairness and fairness is justice and she isn't making sense so she stops thinking.

But first, she has to answer his questions even as she shifts in her seat, the comfortable padding underneath her not soothing her at all. It's a pain, how they're always the same, and she always gives the same answer anyway, so why does he bother?

_Are you okay?_

_Yes._

_Do you remember anything about it?_

_Yes._

_Care to tell me?_

_No. _

_Okay, then...How are you coping with life after Kagamine-san has been murdered?_

_I'm fi-Wait, what do you mean? _

_..._

_What do you mean? He's still alive, isn't he? He is! I saw him just this morning, I-I even spoke to him! How can you say that a live person is dead? It doesn't make sense! I'll sue you for that!_

And then around this time she gets sent out, and waits for another fifteen minutes. And it's always the same nurse that comes up and asks _are you still having hallucinations? Some medicine for you, then. _

Hallucinations? Of course she isn't having them. What would she hallucinate about, anyway?

Normally they send her away with a reminder, but this time, she goes back in and continues the interrogation, mind fumbled and frazzled and not quite herself, because what do they mean? He's still alive, isn't he? She talked to him this morning, didn't she? Not murdered, right? She's still fumbling when she enters the white, white room, and it shows on her face, she's sure.

_Are you okay?_

Yes.

_Do you remember anything about it? _

_Yes. _

_So how did you kill Kagamine-san?_

_Oh, it was lovely, his screams were music to my ears when I lopped his head off. Simply lovely, because he belongs to me now — he said so himself this morning. _


	3. Chapter 3 - messages

**Title: messages**

**Rating: K+**

**Genre: Horror**

**Word count: 437 words**

**Character(s): Len, ?**

**Summary: Don't trust messages sent in the middle of the night. Especially if it's from an unknown number. Sequel to Bloody Saint Valentines'.**

_A/N: Just wanted to get this out here before I head to hell (AKA, exams.). Based on a horror story my friend told me._

* * *

The calendar marking unsettles him (even though it's been more than half a year), and Len finds himself looking behind him every now and then, just to check if a certain crazy psychopath's following.

She isn't, of course — locked in a mental asylum forever, how can she even escape? Not unless she turns invisible or a ghost or has superhuman powers, she can't.

It's another day of tired lessons and smiling and sucking up to people and Len is tired, so he dismisses the black shadow that is at the corner of his eye as just another figment of his imagination.

He unties his hair and the hair-tie falls onto a small but growing pile of presents. Present from his fangirls. Really, it's only October and his birthday is in December, and the lovesick girls are already sending him present after present.

So sick that it makes him want to laugh.

Just because he's single and Rin's not...here anymore (_dead, dead, dead..._his mind chants and Len clenches his fist so hard it leaves crescent-shaped marks in his palms) doesn't mean that they can start fawning over him.

It makes him sick. _Really, really, _sick.

Len doesn't want to have anything to do with girls, not after _that teal-haired crazy girl. _Women are scary.

(Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned — Len finally understood that.)

A knock on the door gets his attention though, and he opens it, to find two policemen standing before him with grim faces.

_Your assailant has been found dead in her room, having slit her wrists...but when we were going to cremate her, her body was gone. Do you have any idea where the body went?_

How is he supposed to know?

But he's still taken for interrogation, and when he gets home again, it's the middle of the night and he's dead tired.

He falls onto his bed and doesn't even bother washing up, before falling asleep, tired.

.

A message wakes him up, and he groans, eyes opening wearily to look at the wall.

A frail hand reaches out to his cellphone, and Len flips it open, lying on his side and blinking at the sudden brightness.

It's a message from an unknown number, but still.

_Don't lie on your side, dearie; turn around and look at me._

Len frowns, not getting it. But he puts down his phone and turns anyway, to fall asleep again.

And then he notices.

A certain crazy murderer is smiling down at him from the ceiling of his room.


	4. Chapter 4 - fall away

**Title: fall away**

**Rating: K**

**Genre: Angst (and Romance if you squint really, really, hard)**

**Word count: 91 words**

**Character(s): Len, Miku **

**Summary: What falls away is always. And is near. **

_A/N: I NEED TO STOP WRITING. STOP CONVERTING REALITY TO IDEAS MY STUPID BRAIN. AND I NEED TO STOP MAKING RANDOM POEM STANZAS MY SUMMARY, DAMMIT! _

_Uhh, an incredibly short drabble not on yanderes, so do forgive me for that. It'll be back to yandere love next chapter, don't worry. _

* * *

.

.

.

He falls; he breaks.

She's there to pick up the pieces.

She cries.

It always hurts.

Always, whenever someone breaks.

Especially him.

But it only happens once.

So she cries only once.

.

.

.

She falls; she breaks.

He's not there to pick up the pieces.

She knows he's not.

She's_ not_ counting on it.

Now that she thinks about it, maybe it's not that painful to break.

Just fall and break into pieces.

Because it only happens once in a lifetime.

She doesn't cry.

.

.

.

_Not anymore. _


	5. Chapter 5 - his

**Title: his**

**Rating: K+ - T**

**Genre: Romance/Supernatural**

**Word count: 1394 words**

**Character(s): Len, Miku**

**Summary: She was a fairy. A fairy caught by an enemy. A fairy that is caught is no more nor less a bird trapped in a cage — a flightless bird. **

_A/N: So I decided to take on iDontCare's challenge of writing **six**__yandere one-shots with no deaths! ^u^ _

_And I'm not very happy with this one. _

_IT'S NOT CREEPY ENOUGH! *rips hair out* This is just-just subtle yandere motives! *cries*_

_Guh. Maybe I'll just start from next chapter...haha...Yeah I should. _

_**Yanderes do not have to kill, y'know? :P **  
_

* * *

The sun is rising — a new day, and the air is alive once again.

The warm orange hues spill over the mountains, dousing them in yellows and reds, and past the panes of her prison window, where her small hands lie in wait, ready and eager to receive the blessings of the sun. The orangey liquid pools in her cupped hands, glistening with the light of the sun and Miku brings it up to her mouth and drinks, not wasting a single precious drop of liquified sunrays. It is rare to even see the sun now; fairies of the light drink and eat only the rays of the sun — especially to regain lost powers — and the only chance she can see the sun is when it is just rising or sinking in the far off Līhtan (her land of light, and Miku's heart aches).

Because _his _power will block the rays of the sun, to prevent his castle from crumbling and collapsing in the strength of the light. _It's soon...Three, two, one. _Miku watches despairingly as a sphere full of dark magic envelops the entire castle, diluting the source of her powers, and she can feel her shoulders hunching over and she falls to the ground, unable to keep herself floating — a result of losing contact with the sun and perhaps, another shattered piece of hope that his power is not strong enough to keep up the barrier. _No matter, _Miku tells herself and straightens up, her diaphanous dress swirling around her pale legs and shimmering with a light of their own, _I have already absorbed the sun's energy. _

She flicks her wrist and tests out; a little orb of light appears, before disappearing with another flick of her slim wrist.

Miku smiles, knowing that the day she regains her full power will not be far off.

(But her smile is empty. Empty and hollow. Empty and not the bright, wide smile he falls-fell-had-fallen for.)

"Miku."

Her head turns around sharply at the voice that outrageously utters her name and her eyes narrow (ah, she shouldn't try to hide such pretty eyes) before his name slips out of her lips, honeyed poison dripping with hatred. "Len Kagamine."

Len steps into her room, black cloak billowing behind him. Shadows follow him wherever he goes, crowding and grasping for his attention (that is fixated on_ her_ and only her) and Miku flinches, stepping away for every step he comes closer — because though she will never admit it, his power is terrifyingly strong and it scares her. The shadows notice the Līhtan fairy, and drawn to her powers like a moth drawn to light, they slip towards her, hissing ever closer. Miku shrinks away and snaps her wide eyes back to Len when the shadows retreat back to his cloak by his bidding (albeit unsatisfied and whiny).

"Why?"

"Why what?"

He comes to a stop right before her — since when? Miku starts in shock — and bends down, lips whispering into her ear before biting down lightly on the dainty appendage. She jolts in surprise and pushes him away, a furious blush staining her cheeks and she bites down on her lower lip angrily, before turning her palm outwards, facing him. A bright orb flashes and speeds towards him from her palm, but Len cancels it out as easy as squashing a fly.

Her eyes widen just a little bit before narrowing again, and he can see the question burning like acid in her throat before she spits it out.

"Why do you not kill me?" Miku grits her teeth, and her eyes flash with anger and a little bit of fear (he loves her eyes — such expressiveness!). Len tilts his head and smiles eerily, his scarlet eyes narrowed to slits (and Miku shivers under their unwavering gaze, though she keeps that fact close to her heart). "Your invasion was a success. You have _no need _to keep me here, even if I _am _the princess of Līhtan. So kill me. I will rather die than see your face."

"Was," Len corrects her but ignores her question and watches her eyes blaze again — this time with more fury and hurt than fear. He shivers, almost drooling — he loves her eyes, indeed. If he can have his way, he will dig out her eyeballs and preserve them forever — but no, he will not, for it is not only her eyes he is in love with, he reminds himself. Len brings up a cool hand and strokes her damask cheek, taking care to do it slowly and sensually — it has the desired effect and he feels her already burning cheeks heat up even more. He feels the disgusted shudder that runs through her body, but pays it no heed — she will be his soon, in body and in mind, _soon. _

And _only _his.

(Besides, he would never, ever kill her.)

**.**

**.**

**.**

It's not only her smile that is empty, but also her eyes now (or on their way, anyway). It's a little aching to see those expressive eyes start to lose their shine and luster, lacking in emotion, even as she's writhing in pleasure beneath him as he places butterfly kisses along her pale neck. She's lost her fight too — but that Len is pleased for, as she won't think about unnecessary things (like her _fiancé_ who is not coming for her anyway) so that she will think about him and only him.

And he _will _make sure of that.

He kisses his way up from her collarbone to the corner of her lips, hovering above her lips and his spicy cinnamon breath fans over her face (Miku will never ever admit it, but she thinks she _might_ not dislike his taste). He moves down to capture her lips, but an unexpected question falls from her lips before he can do so.

"Why?"

And humoring her, Len remembers his answer-question to hers. "Why what?"

"Why did you invade my land?" The follow-up shifts the atmosphere in her room, and Len leans back, frowning, messy bangs falling in front of his crimson eyes. He brushes them away impatiently before looking at her in the eye, observing those dark liquid depths of green that suddenly burn with desire (but not the kind he wants), with anger, and with dread. He knows she dreads his reply, so why is she still asking?

He tries to distract her by kissing her jaw (a moan slips out and he grins into her neck) and it works — he doesn't have to answer the question.

For now.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_Why do you not kill me?_

**Maybe because he needed her as a hostage? She didn't know. She could never know what was behind those burning eyes of his (because she was always drawn to those eyes). **

Why would he kill her? He had been in love with her, since a long time ago.

_Why did you invade my land?_

**Revenge, probably. Her Father and Mother might have made more than one enemy in their political conquest...**

Why not? The king and queen didn't allow for her to be his; they stood in the way of _his _and _her _happiness — so of course, their fellow fairies had to take responsibility too. Surely the whole kingdom of Līhtan had something against their relationship, so he would make them see otherwise. See that he was perfect for her. See that he was the only one for her, and _not _t-that ugly, disgusting fairy from another kingdom.

Because he was the only one for her. He wouldn't have it other ways.

_Why did you kidnap me?_

**He was a strange fairy with a strange fetish. Maybe he just wanted to cage her and play around with her — or rip her wings out to see her twisted expression of fear and pain. That'd be something he wanted to do.**

Why? Such a pointless question. He wasn't allowed to see her when he asked, so of course the only way would be to kidnap her. If it was the only way to see her, to touch her, he would gladly do it.

_Is it because I am the princess of Līhtan? You want a hostage?_

**Obviously yes. He would want Līhtan's treasure — to stay immortal (because fairies weren't so). **

No.

Because he loved her.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_END_


	6. Chapter 6 - honey

**Title: honey**

**Rating: K+ **

**Genre: Horror/Romance (?)**

**Word count: 1070 words**

**Character(s): Len, Miku**

**Summary: Her sixteenth birthday present was the best present ever. Hunger Games AU.**

_A/N: Dude, are people even reading this?! XD_

_Wow, haven't updated this since last year. (Of course it's not that long but it sure feels long when I say _last year_) _

_Um, anyway._

_For people who don't understand why the title is called _**honey**_, because like...erm, venom is poison, right? And sometimes people compare poison to honey or whatever and UGH! _

_Okay there's the (shitty) explanation. _

* * *

_Blink._

_Fizz._

_Blink._

The bright lights of the Capitol blinked on one after another as night descended, showering the already glitzy and dazzling city with even more light and glitter. Citizens of the Capitol chattered as they buzzed about in the streets, eccentrically-coloured wigs bobbing about, appearing here and disappearing there as they disappeared into shops selling this and that, gearing up for the so-called _harsh _winter.

Temperatures were supposedly going to drop to minus twenty onwards, a frostbiting cold that none in the Capitol could go without their colourful and trendy fur clothing and accessories. Inside one of the tallest skyscrapers however, it was as warm as being near a furnace, and here, citizens shrugged off their thick coats and slid into silk and velvet dresses, sipping champagne and chattering excitedly to each other about the latest news and gossip.

"...I heard she has a new pet!"

"...Her wig looked so fabulous."

"...So jealous..."

"The 64th Hunger Games planning..."

"...Quarter Quell soon..."

No one noticed a slim girl twirling her way out of the ballroom used for the extravagant parties and around a corner, out of the sight. The girl sashayed her way down the long corridors, turning left then right, and stopped in front of an oak door. Just as she was about to twist the doorknob, heavy footsteps sounded from her right, and the girl whipped her head around to find a snow-weighed man.

He brushed the snow off his heavy cashmere coat, not caring about the already melting snow flecks on the carpeted floor. "I don't suppose you can tell me where the party is being held, young miss...?" When he spoke his snowy beard moved with his mouth, and the girl nodded towards the direction of the ballroom she just came out from while keeping her eyes on the beard. "Take a left at the first corner, then a right at the second corner."

"Thank you," the man made to move towards the corner, and the girl's heart dropped in relief, her hand once again edging towards the knob. "Oh," he stopped, then turned to address the girl, "what are you doing out here? There is a party going on, held for you sixteenth birthday, Miss Hatsune."

The girl's eyes softened into liquid pools of clear blue at the mention of her birthday. "Just getting acquainted with my present, I suppose," she answered vaguely, a smile playing on her lips. The man laughed a deep laugh at the sight of the near-adult softening at the thought of her birthday present, "A pet?"

The girl nodded and edged toward the oak door concealing her birthday present. The man took that as the cue to leave, and walked off after a deep bow for the young miss. Checking that the coast was clear, the girl slipped into the room and closed the door, leaving the room in darkness.

Her tiny hands felt for the wall and fingertips slid across the marbled wall. Dragging her hand down, she flipped the light switch on and a small bulb on the ceiling burst into life with a soft mechanical purr of delight. The faint yellow light dusted across items and furniture in the room — a sofa here, a table there, and a little bed at the side — and rested on a blonde teenager slouching forward on a chair.

Ropes bound his lean arms to the back of the chair, tight enough not to give way and loose enough not to suffocate. The bound boy, reaching the edge of adulthood, was seemingly unconscious, once flaxen now dirty blonde hair falling forward with his head. His skin was a cold blue, no longer the healthy tan he once had, because of the underground darkness he now lived in, whether be it physical or...mentally.

The girl walked towards him with careful, light footsteps, not wanting to disturb him. Yet as she neared him, his head shot up, cerulean eyes wide open in fear and distrust and his mouth open in silent screams. His voice box pounded in his throat, but no sound came out. Nothing.

There was nothing he could do to stop the girl he didn't know, didn't remember, from gently sliding his arm out from the rope, twisting and turning and breaking the already fractured appendage. Finally, the bruised arm he could no longer feel slipped out from the rope and dangled down from his torso. As if watching his arm swing front and back flipped a switch in his vocal cords, his voice trembled out. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why?" Her voice was breathy, excited, the fall and rise of her chest apparent through the sheer material of her evening gown. "Why?" She moved slowly, as if not fully awake, lifting her hand and caressing his cheek. Her thumb rolled circles over the soft skin, and she pressed down softly as a laugh issued from her throat. "Won't you try to guess? Len?"

"Do not call me that!" He snarled, summoning the last of his energy to protect the beloved memory.

"Oh," she giggled, and slipped her hand down from his cheek to dance over his collarbone. "Oh. Only your beloved..." Her eyes shined with malice that disappeared soon enough. "...Beloved Rin can call you that, right?"

It had all happened in a second.

It was all practiced.

His face softened at the thought of his sister.

Her hands pushed the needle of the syringe into his arm and injected the venom into his bloodstream.

His face changed into that of horror.

A bloodcurdling scream bounced around the room as his mind was hijacked with images of blood dripping down Rin's face, blood streaming from her mouth as she gobbled up the last of the human meat, hands reaching out for him, his sister turning into slime and sliding into his nose, mouth, eyes, ears...

He laid twitching and jerking on the cold floor, ropes forgotten and unneeded. She hummed to herself, cool fingers repeatedly stroking the injection site. The venom would soon make its way out of his system, she decided, so she would visit him everyday.

That was nice.

She could see him everyday!

She was the _only one_ who could see him everyday!

She giggled and bent down to kiss him goodbye.

On the floor, near the boy who was still twitching and jerking erratically, was the syringe.

The label on it read _Tracker Jacker Venom. _


	7. Chapter 7 - potential

**Title: potential**

**Rating: K+**

**Genre: Romance/Horror**

**Word count: 165 words**

**Character(s): Len, Miku**

**Summary: She had potential. And he was eager. **

_A/N: This is a little on the short side. But at least I'm updating, huh? I'm be sure to write the next one a little longer..._

* * *

She was a gem.

Not that others knew.

Or understood.

Only he had that knowledge.

And he was proud of that.

But she was a gem buried beneath the dirt.

He was going to be the one to show her exactly how precious she was.

(to him)

(and not to anyone else)

(because she was his)

That silly girl.

Why did she have to go confess to him for?

Now he had to go and reveal his feelings.

Which made him awkward and he disliked awkward.

At least now the school knew that she was his.

Forever his.

Only his.

In name only.

But if he showed her the way to his lab and her heaven she would be his not only in name.

But also in the physical way.

He looked forward to that.

To —

_chopping off her arms and legs_

_but oh no he would keep her alive_

_oh but she would remain his_

_for eternity_

_she would have no choice_

_would she?_


End file.
